Wednesday, January 14, 2004

Ironic nickname followed Martin Friberg

Valerie Kimble

At the age of 60, Martin S. Friberg took up a new hobby, one that would earn him the nickname by which he would be known for decades.

Friberg, then a professor of mathematics at New Mexico Tech, bought himself a couple of motorcycles, a rider's jumpsuit and a helmet, prompting students to refer to him as "Flash," this in direct contrast to his slow way of speaking and dry sense of humor.

"Flash" Friberg died on Dec. 23 at the age of 93. He died peacefully in his sleep at the home in Socorro he shared with one of his three sons, and where he had lived since returning to Socorro last spring.

Martin Samuel Friberg was born Oct. 16, 1910, in Winona, Minn., where his parents were visiting family. Oscar and Katrina (Johanson) Friberg had emigrated from their native Sweden some years before, and settled in Wisconsin, near Lake Superior, where Oscar worked building boxcars for the Great Northern Railroad, and Katrina was a housewife.

Click to enlarge

Martin chose a different life, earning a B.Ed. from Wisconsin State College; an M.Ph. from the University of Wisconsin; and his Ph.D. in mathematics from the University of Minnesota.

Following an early first marriage and the birth of eldest son, Clint, Martin met his second wife, Mary Dorothy Schooley, at a military base in Racine, Wis., where he taught for several years.

The couple married in 1949, and in 1951 they moved to Socorro where Martin had accepted a mathematics teaching position at New Mexico Tech.

Students recall Friberg as a slow-moving, slow-talking professor who always wore a suit jacket that was covered with chalk dust by the end of the day. Those who listened to his lectures often were rewarded with gems of humor interspersed between the rules of calculus and differential equations.

The life of a college professor suited Friberg, who had an easygoing nature and enjoyed the laid-back life. After his retirement from New Mexico Tech in 1975, he did some traveling, including trips on a Yamaha 350, accompanied by son Stephen.

Following the death of Dorothy in 1990, and in declining health, Martin moved to Las Cruces to live with Greg, the youngest of the Friberg sons, and his family in Las Cruces. Six years ago, Greg left a job in the computer field to care for his father full-time.

In his final months, Martin often spoke Swedish, the language of his parents, and followed the successes of Swedish athletes. He was particularly fond of professional golfer Anika Sorenstam, and took every opportunity to watch her play on television.

Even as his health deteriorated, Martin would rally to watch "Jeopardy!" and "Wheel of Fortune," often lamenting that the quiz-show moved too quickly for him to call out an answer; and marveling at the cushy job Pat Sajak has, getting to "squeeze all the girls."

He was less kind to longtime Albuquerque anchor Dick Knipfing: "Is he still around? Aren't we ever going to get rid of him?"

In the final weeks of his life, Martin had two wishes. One had to do with answering the call of the Siren who still sang to the nonagenerian. The other was to smoke a cigar, something he had last done some 30 years prior.

While no Sirens made it to the Friberg home, Martin did get to smoke not one but two cigars, sitting up in bed and relishing the draw of tobacco and the distinctive odor that permeated his room.

"You know," he said, "I could get hooked on these."

He never had time. Early on the morning of Dec. 23 Martin S. Friberg quietly died, leaving behind a younger sister, three sons and four grandchildren. Cremation has taken place, and the family is planning a private interment next to Dorothy in the Socorro Cemetery.

Memorial donations in Friberg's name may be made to a charity of your choice.

E-mail this story Printer-friendly version